


Massage

by L122YTorch (orphan_account)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-02 00:43:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2793548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/L122YTorch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sick!Kirk, Helpful!Spock, a massage ensues. Just read it :P It's too late to write a real summary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Massage

Kirk lay on his side heaving for air and coughing. His entire body convulsed as his lungs tried to shake the mucus free. He had a temp over 100 degrees and had been in sick bay for two days now.

He was so preoccupied with the current coughing fit that he scarcely noticed Spock enter the room. 

Jim was in a private room with an opaque door that slid open and then shut as the Vulcan entered. 

"Spock, hey," he muttered, trying his best to suppress the tickle in his throat.

The science officer walked over to the side of the bed. His face tried to conceal concern, but Jim knew him better; he knew that Spock was worried.

There was nothing that Bones could do to fix Jim. He really wasn't kidding when he said that space is disease and death wrapped in darkness and silence.

Spock wasn't sure exactly what to say. He considered asking Jim how he was feeling, but it seemed a silly question when his captain was obviously in pain.

The monitors around Jim's bed showed a myriad of bodily information. One of the screens had a human male body on it with areas that were in pain…areas Jim was in pain. 

From two days puking and coughing, his whole body ached. And since he was so damn hot, he lay on top of the sheets, wearing nothing but a pair of sweat soaked white boxers.

"It's okay Spaaak, I'll be okay…" Jim blubbered after studying the Vulcan's face.

That sneaky ninja Bones had slammed a hypo into his neck about an hour ago that made him borderline delirious. But he could he handle it…right?

"Is there anything that I can do for you captain?" Spock asked, his rich brown eyes pouring warmth into Jim's soul. 

"Can you take the pain away?" Jim joked with a chuckle. But the laugh turned into a few heaving coughs. There was so much pressure in his head that when he coughed, little white dots graced his vision.

Spock looked up at the monitor that showed Jim's pain and noticed that there was a sizable area of pain in Jim's neck and upper back. 

"If you would like captain, I can massage your shoulders," he said in all seriousness, but Jim still giggled like a school girl.

The thought of Spock's hands on him sounded good…real good…and with a wide grin he accepted the offer.

"Alright," Spock said moving to the other side of the bed, "I will need you to sit up with your back facing me."

"Yessss sir," Jim said, pushing himself up with a groan. He scooted himself back with as much grace as a blindfolded elephant, and crossed his legs pretzel style. His scootch back had caused the bedsheets to pull on his boxers. 

He knew that Spock must be getting a good look at his plumbers crack, but he didn't care. 

"Arite Spawk, work your magic," he said.

So Spock brought his hands up to Jim's back, hesitating for a moment before they planted down on the tight muscles that held Jim together.

"Ssssssss," Jim hissed as the cold hands met his fevered flesh. Then he sighed. "God, you're so cold," Jim whispered, "feels so good."

He liked the cold sensation once he got used to it, and he wanted more of it, so he managed to scoot back even further until his back was resting on Spock's chest. 

This amount of contact between them was rare, and some alarms were going off in Spock's head. But it was his duty to help his friend in whatever way possible, so he pushed aside his reservations and continued to massage the nearly naked Jim.

Spock's hands were strong and cold as ice, they found every pressure point and untied every knot. Jim tried not to, but he groaned as Spock's beautiful hands relaxed his body.

The noises Jim made were hard to ignore. They sounded deep and sexual. His body shimmered with sweat and Spock had a clear view of the captain's backside. But the worst part…the hardest part…was the fact that the monitor registered an increase of blood flow to a certain area as soon as Spock's hands touched him.

"How are you feeling captain?" Spock asked after about five minutes.

"Ugnnnhh gooood," Jim answered, tilting his head all the way back so that he could look up at Spock. 

But the tickle in his lungs returned and he had to hunch forward and cough violently for a minute or two. Spock's hands never left his back. One rested on his right shoulder blade and one was in the middle of his back. The touch was reassuring. 

He sat up once more and leaned back against Spock when the fit had passed. Even through the science officer's blue shirt he could feel the coolness beneath the fabric. It felt so good, and as Spock noticed on the monitor, it seemed to lower Jim's body temperature.

The monitor also revealed that the muscles in Jim's chest were in pain as well. 

"Would you like for me to gently massage your chest muscles?" he asked innocently.

A huge smile spread across Jim's face as he imagined Spock's hands, not just on his chest, but everywhere.

Shit, he had to reign these thoughts in. He was already more than halfway hard. Those drugs that Bones gave him must've really loosened him up. Or was it the fever? Who knows…either way, he was really enjoying this unexpected turn of events.

"Yeah, that'd be good," he said. 

So with Jim's back still resting on his chest, Spock snaked his arms beneath Jim's arms and brought his hands to Jim's tired chest. 

In a weird sort of way, Spock was embracing Jim and he'd never felt better in his entire life than in that moment. It was like two pieces of a puzzle coming together. 

Jim sighed in approval and Spock began to move his fingers in slow circular motions around Jim's ribs. 

Jim tilted his head to the left so that his cheek rested on Spock's chest. And much to his delight, he was able to hear Spock's heartbeat. 

He'd found his new favorite sound.

Shit…Spock's hands were all over him and … did Spock know what he was thinking? 

"You're a touch telepath…" Jim stated but with an implied question mark. 

"Yes."

"Hmmmm," Jim said. 

His concerns got lost somewhere when Spock's hands moved up to his pectoral muscles. One was massaging the large muscle on the left while the other rested over his heart.

It felt amazing.

After another minute had passed, Jim dared to take one of his own limp hands and run it up Spock's arm, to the hand that was over Jim's heart. 

He put his fingers over the back of Spock's hand. Jim savored the feel of the flesh beneath his.

Spock's other hand stopped moving.

He could almost sense Spock's trepidation, but he didn't give a shit. 

He slotted his fingers between Spock's and pulled the hand away from his chest. 

Spock wondered if Jim was removing his presence, in a way to tell him to go, but he was shocked when, instead of letting his hand go, Jim brought it up to his lips. 

He put the first two fingers up to his lips, and let them feel the hot pink fullness of them, before he kissed the fingers. 

Did Kirk know what he was doing? Was he delirious from medication or the fever? Panic bloomed in Spock's chest. 

Spock wanted to chock it up to one of those two things…but he couldn't. Even with his mental shields up, he could feel the weight of Jim's emotions bleeding into him. 

There was heat, desire, relief, want, lust…love that bled from Jim into Spock - straight past his mental shields. 

Jim slowly closed his heavy eyelids as he moved Spock's hand up and kissed the palm. 

Jim's flesh was so hot, it was on fire, a stark contrast to Spock's cold hands. He could feel the moisture of Jim's breaths on his skin. Jim's full lips were kissing his palm. It was hard to believe that this was happening.

As Jim's lips finally pulled away, they made that little kissie noise. And the sweet sound filled every corner of the stark sterile room. 

A thousand questions were running through Spock's mind. He struggled to grapple with what was happening, and his own reaction to it is what startled him the most. 

"You're mine," Jim mumbled into his kiss-wet hand. "Always." 

Spock looked down, seeing past the blonde crown of messy hair beneath his chin, and saw Jim holding his hand. 

Intense heat crept into Spock's face and ears as he flushed a rich evergreen hue. 

He cleared his throat, even though there was nothing to be cleared. 

"Now that some of your pain has been relieved, I believe that you should rest," Spock said, running a thumb over JIm's before he brought his hands back to himself. 

"Mmmkay," Jim said, not even trying to conceal the disappointment in his voice.

He moved forward, uncrossed his legs, and laid back down in bed. 

Immediately he missed the contact with Spock. He missed the weight of the solid body behind his, holding him up, holding him together.

Want and need pulsed beneath his boxers. He should probably be ashamed that Spock could clearly see his erection, but he didn't care.

He so desperately wished that Spock's nimble fingers would slide down his body and grab onto him. He pictured Spock's hand around his dick, he pictured Spock's mouth kissing the head and then plunging down around it. 

Jim groaned with the bitter realization that that was just a daydream - and that's all it'd probably ever be.

Spock knew he should leave, walk away briskly and never revisit this in his mind. But instead, he stood there, next to Jim's bed and took in the sight of a very flushed human with a very apparent erection. 

Jim caught Spock's curious gaze and very boldly stated, "you're more than welcome to massage any other areas of my body…" 

Kirk's words were deep, gravelly and suggestive, and to top it off, he looked straight from Spock to his cock and back.

Of course, Spock looked at the pain monitor and mentioned that he saw no other areas of pain on Jim's body. 

"Doesn't discomfort count?" Jim whined.

Spock was clearly uncomfortable.

"I do not think that massaging your…"

"Cock?" Jim blurted.

"…would be appropriate," Spock finished. "I should be returning to duty," he said with a nod as he crossed the room.

Jim's eyes never left his lengthy form, and Spock could feel the gaze heavy upon his shoulders.

"Maybe another time," Jim smiled, once again turning over on his side to face the door. 

He coughed once more, and it sounded wet with mucous. 

Spock felt so conflicted that if…well…he might just consider doing it. He would do anything for Jim. But he did not want to jeopardize their friendship. The most alarming realization was the one that Spock…wanted to. He was half hard himself.

"Get some rest captain," Spock said as he turned to leave.

"Visit me again?" Jim pleaded.

"Of course captain," Spock said, ordering the door open. 

Silence again filled the room in the Vulcan's absence. 

And as soon as he was alone, Jim resumed the massage.


End file.
